The Seven Serpents Trilogy by Scott O’Dell Read Free Book Online Page A

up in front of him made his eyes dance.
    When we had all gathered around him, he raised his sword and said, his voice quavering with emotion, his pale cheeks flushed with color, “Henceforth and forever more, I wish this island to be known as Isla del Oro.” He turned to Captain Roa: “Rub out the old name and put the new name down on your chart just as I’ve spo ken it.”
    â€œIt would be better,” said the captain, “if you were to confer with the governor before the new name is en tered. The island may belong to someone else and have a different name.”
    â€œPut it down,” said Don Luis.
    That night while I was playing the gittern, rendering a tune that I thought was especially pretty, Don Luis told me to stop. Putting down the shank bone he had been sucking, he turned to Captain Roa.
    â€œCaptain, from what Guzmán says, we have a rich mine.”
    â€œHe should know. He’s seen many.”
    â€œHow distant is Hispaniola,” Don Luis asked, “now that you have made your celestial calculations?”
    â€œTwo hundred leagues or less.”
    â€œIs the
Santa Margarita
in shape to sail?”
    â€œAs much as she will ever be.”
    Don Luis picked up his shank bone and sucked on it for a moment. “We leave in the morning,” he said. “I wish to talk to Governor Santacilla.”
    At dawn the two of them and a crew of eight set off for the island of Hispaniola, leaving for our protection some of Don Luis’s men.
    No sooner had Don Luis left the harbor than Guzmán set about increasing the yield of gold. He called the women of the tribe together, gave them bolts of silk cloth to share, and, with the help of the cacique, put them to work carrying baskets of ore to the lagoon. This freed men to work in the mine.
    The yield increased, but Guzmán was not satisfied. Again with the help of Ayo, he divided the men into two bands, each laboring twelve hours. A steady stream of ore came down the trail on the backs of the women.
    Five days after Don Luis left for Hispaniola, Guzmán had finished building an
arrastre.
Our animals were in poor condition from the hard voyage, so in their place Guzmán selected eight old men to turn the two flat stones that crushed the ore. Working in pairs for an hour at a time, pushing against the long wooden handle that turned the stones, they managed to keep up with the ore that the women brought down the trail.
    After the ore was crushed, it was taken to the stream and washed. The gold, being heavy, sank to the bottom. Mostly in pebbles and flat pieces the size of coins, it was then stored in a shed that Guzmán had had built beside the lagoon. He posted night and day guards around the shed and in addition stationed our two mastiffs beside it. The Indians feared these big gray dogs, and rightly, for the beasts had been trained to attack and kill upon command.
    Before Don Luis had been gone a week, the whole village was at work. Guzmán blasted the rock. The young men dug with mattocks and their hands. The women carried the ore to the lagoon. The old men turned the heavy stones of the
arrastre.
Everyone, whether lame or halt, had something to do. The shed overflowed with treasure.
    My feeble efforts to bring these people Christ’s mes sage came to an end.
    It had been difficult in the beginning, since I was ignorant of the language and needed to rely upon Esteban to translate what I said, to teach them things they had never dreamed of. It was now impossible. They knelt, after a long day of work, while I sang the Salve Regina. But then they rose and went off without a word.
    There was nothing I could do about it. I couldn’t ex pect help from Guzmán, who thought everything I did was not only a waste of time but also a hindrance to what he was doing, which was to mine as much ore as possible in the shortest time. He lived in fear that, be fore Don Luis returned, some questing Spaniard might sail